Moves
by Mari83
Summary: Bling gives Logan a lesson in martial arts… and triggers Max’s inner demons along the way. Somewhere in S1 and most definitely ML even if rather in the UST form.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel.

A/N: This one is a by-product of the discussion at BBWW-forum about Max's and Bling's martial arts training: What would Bling have to do to convince Logan that learning some martial art moves isn't a bad idea?

Many thanks to Mia for betaing (and telling me it's good to post when I myself wasn't sure about that) and to Shywriter for letting me borrow some of Bling's life.

Logan's thoughts are in Italics

* * *

**Moves**

"You know, Logan, _sometimes _it would come in handy, if your chair had handles."

Logan glared up to Bling with what he considered his best 'don't you dare picking up that topic'-stare. But at the same time he couldn't help feeling a tiny bit of curiosity at this so unlike Bling statement. Usually the physiotherapist was the first person to stress that Logan could very well function on his own regardless of the chair.

They had just finished an easy training session, nothing strenuous, since Logan's attention – as so often – had been with his latest Eyes Only case and clearly not with the dumbbells in his hands. Thus, while Logan had pondered absent-mindedly how to save the world, Bling in turn had wracked his brain for something to get his work-obsessed employer away from staring at his computers all day long and engage him into some kind of physical diversion. No easy task, but he had come up with a rather wicked plan, one that should get Logan moving despite his almost paranoid aversion against anything that might, in any way, make his disability more visible and therefore, in Logan's unique twisted logic, let him look incapable and 'unmanly'.

With that concept in mind Bling only rolled his eyes good-naturedly at Logan's wordless response, stifling a grin at how predictable his reactions were. His vast experiences about 'How Logan Cale ticks' in the back of his mind, the trainer was fairly confident he would get his way in the end and shooed away the small yet persistent guilty voice that chided him for using his friend's tender spots. But, after all Bling told himself with a quick, flashing smile in Logan's direction, it was only for his best. "Yeah, sure, I know, no handles. God forbid anyone might offer to push you."

That earned him another, markedly annoyed, glare from Logan.

_It's easy for you to say that, Mr. 'I'm the picture of physical fitness'. You don't have people minimize you all the time, treating you like a child just because all they see is the chair._

Bling had noticed the shade of bitterness and contempt cross Logan's features at his comment and, albeit keeping up his always calm appearance, inwardly he sighed, weary and saddened at Logan's completely unnecessary feelings of inadequacy. But, as he reminded himself, those were exactly what he wanted to tackle with his little scheme, so, before Logan had the chance to sink deeper into the ever-present abyss of depression, Bling quickly proceeded to the second stage of his plan and delivered the next teaser. "But in this one case handles would be a real benefit for defending yourself."

Now it was Logan's turn to roll his eyes, exasperated at Bling's remark. This wasn't the first time Bling had bugged him with this crazy 'teach Logan some martial arts'- idea, but so far Logan had successfully resisted, being profoundly convinced that such a whole body-involving activity must be an impossibility for people in wheelchairs.

_And even if it really is possible, I definitely don't plan to embarrass myself by playing the human mop._

It hadn't been mentioned for a while though and he had assumed Bling had forgotten about the whole idea. Well, maybe not exactly forgotten. Bling wasn't one to forget things. But Logan had hoped with a childish glint of triumph that maybe once his considerable stubbornness had won over Bling, whose insistence in almost every case was just that infinitesimal but deciding iota bigger.

_Wrong assumption, Cale._

So he gave in and uttered, albeit reluctantly the question the waiting trainer wanted to hear. "Okay Bling. Tell me about the benefits of wheelchair handles in self-defense. Is it so the bad guys can have an easier grip on me?"

Bling just let out a soft chuckle at Logan's defiant behavior, neither taking it particularly seriously nor feeling offended, as he profited from the typical stoic attitude which life and work in such different places like the military, the medical field, or the far eastern monastery had lent him. Besides, with Logan he was used to worse as his boss on a regular basis felt the need to vent his frustration about the brokenness of the world and a body that didn't always comply with his Herculean crusade onto whichever innocent person happening to be around. Usually, with the solitary life Logan led, it was Max or Bling himself who were hit by those flares of tempers and although being on the receiving end of Logan's bitching might not be an especially pleasant experience, Bling much preferred it to the dark moods that threatened to swallow Logan every now and then.

"Nope. One of the easiest tricks actually." He came around and took position behind Logan's back, too close for comfort had he been a stranger. "Imagine you really did have handles on your chair and someone is leaning into you like that, or worse" and Bling had the grace of not demonstrating the next to Logan "is grabbing your shoulders or even trying to throttle you." At this Logan tilted his head back to in order to cast a glimpse of the bulky figure hovering over him. "Then you just grab the wheel rims and push back with all your might, maybe giving it a little twist, with the nice, little effect that the handles are rammed in your opponent's guts. Easy and very efficient, especially with guys, as you can imagine" he further explained while offering a very convincing act of doubling over in pain halfway over Logan's shoulder, dramatically clutching his lower abdomen with his big hands. "Then, when I'm down at your level, you can finish me off with some punches onto my nose or my chin."

Logan smirked almost despite himself at the image of an uncharacteristically outgoing Bling he caught out of the corner of his eyes.

Bling for his part knew better than to make a big fuss about his victory, only allowed himself a little, satisfied smile, invisible to Logan behind whose back he was still standing. As he came around to lean against the exercise table, his appearance now calm and even-tempered as ever, Bling mused that a minor lecture couldn't do any damage though, especially if the recipient had such a thick skull as Logan Cale.

"So Logan, as you can see from such simple a move, a wheelchair doesn't automatically needs to be a disadvantage in a fight but can prove to be a very effective weapon" He proffered a calm, knowing smirk at Logan who tipped his head down in a silent nod, having to concede that Bling had been right. Again. Logan knew he'd been played, out-manoeuvred by Bling's extensive knowledge in so many fields, among them, psychology. Yet his indignation dissolved quickly as he finally admitted to himself that Bling's idea to show him some martial arts moves wasn't so bad after all. He could imagine a lot of situations were it would pay out for Eyes Only to have some tricks up in the sleeve, even though these days – and the very concept still hurt Logan – he had to leave most of the 'legwork' to others. Or more specifically, Logan mused, by now totally lost in thought, he had to leave it to Max who like Bling surely also could show him a move or two. _But that was – in no way – going to happen_, Logan told himself wryly, humiliated by the mere notion of getting into a situation where her physical superiority – painfully glaring to him under normal circumstances – would be even more accentuated.

Finally snapping himself out of his ponderings with this demeaning picture, Logan became aware that Bling's gaze still was directed unto him as the trainer was patiently awaiting his reaction, and he berated himself for being absent once more. But then, Logan thought, a pleased flicker enlightening his downcast eyes, a little waiting was exactly the kind of penalty his cunning trainer had deserved. Glancing over to the gentle, dark face of the person who had helped him through his darkest moments, Logan couldn't pretend any longer. And so, for the second time in less than an hour, he formed the words Bling had aimed for, this time amusement tinting the resignation in his voice.

"Okay Bling. Go ahead, introduce me into the fine secrets of martial arts."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Dark Angel. And of course all hints to Bling's background are just borrowed from Shywr1ter's "Still Water's".

**A/N**: Many thanks to Mia / RT4ever for betaing and suggestions. Especially for pointing out the difference between 'demise' and 'premise' (quite important;-p) and for reminding me that such a manly guy like Logan would never say 'Ouch' but 'Oww'.

Sorry Maria, still no Bling-on-a-bear-rug. Should be the next-but-one chapter.

(But Bling still is in shorts and shirt, maybe this helps your imagination a bit…;-)

**Logan's penthouse, 4 PM**

"Oww!"

Max tensed, carefully closing the door whose lock she had just silently picked. It definitely had been Logan who had just let out that yelp of pain. For a split second she froze, petrified by the thought that Eyes Only's cover had been blown.

_And now some scumbag has gotten through his security system…_

Then the soldier in Max kicked in, coolly assessing the situation and telling her there had been enough startled indignation in Logan's voice to make evident he wasn't in immediate danger. Besides, with her revved up hearing Max could easily recognise that the second person present didn't pose a threat, but – judged by the deep, calm breathing – must be Bling.

_Cool down._ _No reason to panic._

So, after closing the door again, this time with enough noise to announce her presence, Max made her way over to the exercise room. Striding around the divider, she saw she'd been right: The cyber journalist and his therapist were down on the floor, on a big, rectangular mat which she hadn't seen before.

Bling was first to acknowledge her presence, welcoming her with a gentle "Hey Max" that was followed by the same from Logan, albeit his greeting was a bit muffled from his position flat on his stomach.

Returning their greetings, Max took in the scene before her with interest – and with just a fragment of her earlier worries remaining. She had caught quite a few of Logan's therapy and workout sessions before, but this – with Bling kneeling beside his patient who was evidently in pain – was something new. As he twisted around to sit up she gave him a quick once-over to check for any injuries and, finding none, threw him a questioning glance. But – of course – with typical stubbornness he ignored her, forcing Max to shift her gaze to Bling, who was more liable to spill it if something was wrong.

_After all, it's not his macho pride that's at stake._

She had experienced on more than one occasion how easily Logan could misinterpret a simple question about his well-being as an act of belittling him because of his injury – and the result of a grumpy Logan was the very last thing Max needed right now. _Might spoil my chances for tonight's culinary miracle. _But… if Logan was ill or hurt she wanted – needed – to know.

With all this in mind Max veiled her query with a breezy, lax tone that betrayed nothing of her underlying ruminations. "Everything all right with you two?"

Logan's answer consisted solely of a friendly, yet not exactly explaining "Sure," which wasn't elaborated further even as Max continued to stare at him with sceptical disbelief. So again Max raised her brows in silent questioning to Bling, hoping he would be a bit more forthcoming about what was going on. And she had been right. The trainer's reaction showed once more why he was held in so high respect by everyone around as he managed to corporate two seemingly contradicting interests: Keeping up Logan's dignity with an agreeing "Everything's right" while at the same time assuring Max with a calming look of the unneccisity of her fears. "I'm just teaching Logan a bit of self defence."

That earned him an annoyed glare from Logan which made it perfectly clear that this wasn't something he wanted to share with Max. So, with just the tiniest bit of amusement tinting his voice, Bling allowed his boss an easy way out. "We've just finished though."

Bling's minute grin was returned by a grateful smile from Max, which soon changed to one of open appreciation for Logan and his new project. "Good idea. Eyes Only could use some moves... You never know when your own personal cat burglar might need a trusty sidekick."

Yet her teasing attempt to show him that his self-conscious secretiveness wasn't necessary went sideways. An unbelieving glance upwards was the only answer to her approval, paired with a snorted, uneasy "Yeah, right" as he reached back with one hand to gingerly rub his neck.

The sight of him in his workout gear, propped up on muscular arms, face slightly flushed from his workout did strange things to Max. Suddenly she felt like _she_ was the one who'd just finished a training session with Bling as her cheek started to burn and the urge to fan herself at nice scenery made her shove her hands into the pockets of her pants. Logan in a T-shirt wasn't that common a view – after all Seattle wasn't exactly Hawaii – and Max was sure she hadn't caught a glimpse of him in those light blue running shorts before. Somehow this simple change to vacation-like attire let him appear in a whole different light. The workaholic driven by endless corruption and misery seemed to vanish for a fleeting moment to give space to a Logan Cale who could just kick back and relax – enjoy life. Unbidden, Max's mind drifted off, conjuring a clichéd little fantasy of a tropical beach at sunset, palms arching over the white sand … and of Logan in swimming trunks, just about to shed his shirt…

"What about you, Max?"

Bling's question barely registered with her, the absent "Me?" an unconscious, automatic function solely meant to placate him. In exclusive concentration that ridiculed her normally outstanding multi-tasking abilities every single strand of Max's attention was focused on the man before her, who was about to transfer into the wheelchair, but hesitated, as if waiting for something.

"I always wondered how you keep up your fighting abilities?" The question was posed with Bling's typical calm – interested, but not overly curious. Nevertheless Max head jerked around in wide-eyed surprise, caught utterly unawares by this unexpected query. Fazing the tricky decision of how to play this, she hesitated, all silly daydreams about Logan instantly forgotten.

"Well, you know there's never a lack of dumb sector cops or ogling guys… Not to mention some occasional escape and evade with Lydecker" A light, easygoing tone probably was the best solution, the least obtrusive way to get their conversation back on safer ground.

As she'd expected him to, Bling smirked at her street-wise come-back – and almost Max relaxed again into her previous careless stance. But then his next remark made her defences slam up anew, effectively reminding her of Bling's military background.

"I had a bit of training myself. So… if you ever feel like you need a sparring partner… You know how to reach me." The offer came casually, the usually so perceptive trainer for some reasons not giving in to Max's unspoken request to let go off the subject. "Who knows, even might be fun."

The idea of 'fun-fighting' elicited a perplexed look from Max; the very notion of doing martial arts for recreational purposes sounding absurd to her. The training fights of her childhood had been everything but amusing games, had, in their grim seriousness, often resulted in severe injuries – and in harsh punishment for the losers.

Shooing away those gloomy memories Max observed the trainer with guarded vigilance. Without a doubt he'd caught her discomfort with the topic with her first evasive answer and the too-casual behaviour. He was a smart guy after all, had seen a lot in his life, and normally his judgement was dead-on even with someone as complicated as Logan. However, Max wasn't normal; the experiences that steered her decisions were even out of Bling's vast knowledge. In her case, his usually so unerring instinct misguided him as his questions probed Max into showing him what she was capable of.

The mere thought horrified Max. She didn't even wanted to consider what effect it might have on these two men whom she valued so deeply if she gave them a little demonstration of how easily she could snap a neck, of how natural the movements of killing and injuring came to her.

_They'll see you as what you are – a killing machine_.

Hiding her unease under a nonchalant demeanour, Max gazed over at the waiting trainer, politely declining his offer. "Thanks, but I don't do fun fighting."

Bling accepted her answer with a solemn nod; then, with the quiet determination that normally heaved Logan out his self-pitying melancholy, he carried on with his plan. "Okay. Then, how about we make it no fun and all training? I'm a bit more of a challenge than your ordinary drunk, so there might be some benefit in it for me… and for you."

He'd stressed the last, a not so subtle hint at Manticore and the very reason why she needed to be ready and capable to fight for her freedom at every single moment, night or day, at Crash or while pretending to be just an ordinary bike messenger.

_Thanks, Bling. Like I could ever forget._

The rational part of Max appreciated that it only was his concern for her safety that had lead him to this suggestion. And some other, not so rational part couldn't help but feel warmed by his kind thoughtfulness. Apart from Logan, Bling was the only person who knew of her real identity, and to see he considered her as a friend gave Max an odd, tender feeling of affection and gratitude that she couldn't quite explain.

_Maybe… this is how it feels to have a home, a sheltered place with people you trust…_

However – trusting people wasn't something Max was used to do. Her whole life was built on the premise of never putting confidence in _anybody_ beside her siblings. Mistrusting everyone around her, never exposing who she really was probably was the only reason Lydecker hadn't found her yet. It seemed to be the one thing about which Manticore had been right. The last years in Seattle – meeting Logan – had somewhat tampered with her philosophy of self-afflicted quarantine… but yet Max wasn't ready to put these new and confusing emotions to a test. And so, lead by her old, reliable attitude of cynical solitude her reply to Bling's well-meant query was inappropriately harsh. "I said no, didn't I?"

Max's sharp tone caused Logan to look over from adjusting himself in the chair with the distinct feeling he'd missed something important. Taking in with a good deal of bewilderment Max penetrating stare and Bling's perplexed, contrite expression, he tried to remember when exactly their amiable conversation had turned into such a tight test of wills. Max fierce reaction had come out of the blue for him, as well. He could only guess that the reason behind this complete, sudden shut-down must be the result of some painful incident in her past. Logan cringed, remembering that growing up in a military institution must have provided Max with an abundance of bitter memories.

It was no thought he could dwell on though. Seeing his friends facing each other like adversaries unhinged Logan, and, acutely aware of the heavy, tension-filled silence, for an instant he pondered what in the world he could say to make things right again.

But neither Logan nor Bling were given a chance to react Max's strange behaviour. Unable to keep up the hostile glare at Bling's good-natured face any longer Max gaze dropped down to the floor. Then, with a hasty "Have to go" she was out of the out of the door, leaving it to the two startled men to figure out what had just happened.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel.

**A/N**: Many thanks for the reviews…

….and many thanks to Mia/RT4ever for betaing:-) All remaining mistakes are mine of course.

Maybe somebody will recognize a part of this as a bit from the snippet-thread over at the BBWW-forum;-)

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**Logan's Penthouse, 4:10 PM**

A part of Logan wanted to yell at Bling for making Max dash out of the penthouse and away from him. Unfortunately though the concept of yelling implied knowing what the object of one's ire did wrong – and Logan still had no clue what exactly it was that had upset Max about Bling's offer to do a little sparring. The only 'crime' Bling had committed was worrying about Max's well-being, which, as Logan was aware even in his slightly irritated state, was something to be thankful for.

No, this irrational wish to stagger Bling with one of his death-glares simply stemmed from this funny sense of over-protectiveness Logan felt nagging at him when it came to Max. It was a feeling which roots Logan didn't wish to explore further, keenly aware that taking a closer look at his desire to shield Max from all harms might just lead to the delicate matter of what exactly their relationship was.

Besides, Logan mused with a resigned glance over to his friend, how could he be mad at Bling when he displayed such a miserable expression of contrite perplexity? So, instead of holding his friend responsible for Max's inexplicable mood swing, Logan simply offered him a sympathetic smirk, wryly remembering the uncountable times when Bling had remained silent after _he_ had pissed off Max. "That didn't go as planned, hmm?"

Directing his dark eyes onto Logan, Bling leaned onto the workout table, then tipped his head down in a frowned nod. "I need to apologize."

Logan couldn't help but smile at Bling's self-incrimination, which was yet another reason why he deserved the medal for 'Best friend and therapist' on a daily basis. The man had just gotten a full blast of attitude from Max, one that had been pretty much undeserved and provoked merely by his wish to help. But instead of being insulted by Max's rude behaviour, Bling blamed himself and – instinctively sensing that Max anger wasn't really directed at him in person but had merely been a long trained reflex reaction – insisted that _he_ was the one who should apologize.

Allowing himself another smile at the irony of the situation which was quite the reversal of their normal pattern, Logan set on making Bling feel better. "Maybe. First though you need to let her cool of a bit."

That earned him a sceptically raised eyebrow from Bling, telling him quite clearly that while Max might be less agitated after venting of a little this didn't touch the mysterious reason for her peculiar behavior in the least. Logan had to admit that he was right, but cheering up Bling and solving the tricky mystery of Max's inner workings was just a bit too challenging a task to be solved in just a matter of seconds.

Logan was a bit at loss what else to say – after all Max had just managed to render Bling speechless, the guy who so far had provided a wise answer to just about _everything_. After another moment of silent contemplation though he came up with the one thing that had proven its infallible potential to pacify Max: food. "Listen, Bling, why don't you go home, kick back, grab some food and…" Logan paused, intending to have Bling's full attention when he pulled the joker from his sleeve. "… maybe let Maria work her magic on those kinks you got from messing around with Eyes Only." Maria, the nurse from Metro Medical and more importantly Bling's girlfriend, who hopefully didn't have to work nightshift today, was the one person in whom Logan had full confidence when it came to making Bling feel better. "In the meanwhile I'll feed Max… so, if you come by around nine, I'm sure she'll at least hear you out." The last part was added in a more serious tone and with an expectant glance up into Bling's pensive face, hoping he had persuaded the trainer.

And indeed, his words seemed to have achieved their goal as the beginning of a smile creased the corners of Bling's mouth. It was founded in Bling's gratefulness for Logan's attempt – but also by the thought of Maria, who'd promised this morning to bring home some Chinese takeout after the end of her shift for a nice, comfortable evening in front of the fireplace. Nevertheless, a final bit of scepticism remained, causing Bling to throw Logan an unconvinced look. "You know…I really don't want to interrupt your intimate evening."

As if someone had pushed an invisible button, Logan's face took on stubborn set and, without so much as a second thought or a single moment of hesitation, the usual mantra was out of his mouth. "We're not…"

"… like that. Yeah sure, I know." Finally, as he effortlessly finished the all-too familiar proclamation of denial, Bling's solemnity was broken by a broad grin that did absolutely nothing to hide his exasperated amusement.

Just as always his incredulous come-back earned him an irritated glare from Logan, who had right from the start and with wordless efficiency declared his obvious appreciation of Max to a topic that wasn't to be touched. This time though Logan wasn't able to keep up the well-practiced look of indignation for very long against his relief at eventually seeing the typical expression of calm, balanced friendliness re-established on Bling's face. In an urging tone now he repeated his offer. "Think about it. After I've fed Max with another Cale Culinary Miracle she'll forgive you just about anything."

Bling smirked, momentarily distracted by Logan's complete, utter clueless-ness. His cooking was delicious, no question, but Bling had a strong suspicion that the food would play only a minor role in softening Max into forgiving and forgetting. Nope, the motive behind Max hardly ever turning down Logan's offer of a free meal – glaringly obvious for anybody but Logan – wasn't so much the food in itself, but the unsuspicious opportunity it provided to spend some time in the company of a certain handsome cyber-journalist.

The thought that maybe today Max would decline Logan's offer for dinner because he had spooked her off with his damned persistence efficiently brought Bling back to the problem at hand. As much as he wanted the both of them to spend some time alone over candlelight and wine he needed to make sure that Max was okay and wouldn't avoid Logan just because of his stupid mistake. He didn't want to even imagine the state of hopeless self-neglect Logan would fall into without the regular visits of Max which drew him into short-lived yet blissfully light-hearted moments of happiness and were the only thing that kept Logan from completely drowning himself in the bleak world of corruption and misery. So, as he bent down to pick up his backpack on his way over to the door, Bling reluctantly gave in to Logan's offer. "Right then. I'll be back around nine."

Satisfied and relieved Logan watched his retreating back, his mind already occupied with figuring out how to make tonight's dinner extra-special. His absorbed ponderings though were interrupted when Bling stopped mid-movement as if he had forgotten something. One hand lingering on the wooden room divider, the trainer craned his head over one broad shoulder for a sincere, quiet, "Thanks, man".

Logan just answered with his widest companionable grin. "Hey, you know, it's only payback." And it really was. Bling was a man of many talents, each of them highly appreciated of Logan: ever-patient therapist, motivational guru, valued advisor in Eyes Only matters… wise friend. Logan didn't want to think about what would have become of him after the shooting had he met a therapist who didn't possess Bling's unique mix of resolute gentleness.

And now he had even talked him into learning a bit of self-defence, an idea Logan would have successfully resisted with everybody else. But all in all, Logan decided while he carefully massaged his aching neck, his first, abruptly ended self-defence class hadn't gone too bad. They hadn't done much yet, basically just Bling delivering an interesting physiology lesson as he showed Logan the various points on the human body where with little force a lot of pain could be achieved. Of course, with Bling always being the responsible physiotherapist, this had been accompanied by a little lecture that, in general and with Logan's unfeeling legs in particular, one had to be very careful not to inflict serious bruises and swellings. Both of them only clad in shorts and t-shirts to have a better look at how muscle, joints and nerves were connected, Bling at first had demonstrated the different pressure points with Logan and then had let him test his new knowledge on the muscle-packed body of his teacher.

Things had went well as Logan's curiosity had been awakened by Bling's competent explanations and the trainer's usually patient air soon establishing the comfortable atmosphere which had become so typical for their workouts throughout the last months. It had given Logan a growing confidence that, despite his stubborn unwillingness to believe it, maybe learning a little martial arts was possible for him, too. Things had went well… until he had heard the metallic click of his front door closing – only a mere second after a yelping "Oww" had escaped his lips at Bling's demonstration of a particular mean technique involving pressure on his neck and his jaw. Max… From all possible moments she had to choose that very instant for one of her normally very welcome out of the blue visits. Still feeling very much like his head would snap of any moment, Logan damned his inability to just jump up from the floor, so she wouldn't see him in this oddly embarrassing position flat on his stomach.

An instant later Max had appeared in the doorframe of the exercise room, making Logan wish he just could blend in with the workout mat. Bling on his part hadn't been shaken in the least by Max sudden appearance. He had just given Logan a gentle clap on the back – a subtle _"Get over your issues, man"_ – and, standing with a grace that always was surprising to see with someone as bulky, had greeted their visitor with a gentle "Hey, Max".

Max. He needed to call her, make sure that she still wanted to indulge in a Cale Culinary Miracle tonight. Logan dropped his hands down to unlock the brakes of the chair with a resolute snap… but then hesitated, Max's inexplicable anger still fresh in his mind. Fingers fumbling with the cool metal of the wheel rims, Logan suddenly question the wisdom of bothering Max with his superficial dinner plans right now when her peace of mind seemingly was threatened by some unknown… thing. What if calling her only boosted her agitation?

But then, for once it wasn't him who had run her off, Logan reasoned. Why should she be mad with _him_ who after all had barely uttered ten words throughout the whole episode? Of course, seen from a purely logical perspective, Max had no motive to be mad with Bling either… Even more reasons to make himself visible on her pager, Logan told himself as he finally moved over to the office area with determination. He needed to make sure things could go back to the normal state of comfort and ease between Max and Bling…. needed to make sure she was well and hadn't gotten into some kind of trouble in her worked up state…

Taking the phone from its station, Logan decisively punched in the number that in the last months had gotten as familiar to him as the face of the stunning bike messenger to which it belonged.

………..To be continued……….


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Dark Angel… and I don't own Bling's past either, but once more gratefully borrowed it from Shywr1ter's Bling-saga "Still Waters.

**A/N:** Many thanks to Mia for betaing, suggestions … and for the interesting information on tasseomancy:-) All remaining mistakes are mine of course.

Equally many thanks for the reviews:-)

Finally, the long-promised 'Bling on a bear-rug'-chapter for Maria. Nothing of relevance for anybody else, I'm afraid.

Flashbacks are marked with italics.

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**Bling's place, 7 p.m.**

"Whatever your problem is, honey, this isn't tea, and I've never heard of anybody reading his fate from melted ice-cream."

Bling looked up with a contrite expression, Maria's voice – somewhere in between concern and amused exasperation – startling him from his absorbed observations of the sticky mess of what had once been a nice hot butterscotch sundae with whipped cream and walnuts. They were on the sofa, enjoying the dry warmth that radiated from the fireplace after a relaxing dinner. It was the picture of a perfect evening – and yet Bling's attention clearly was elsewhere, something bothering him as he brooded in untypical absentness. When not even her question really registered with him, Maria tried again, this time going with the first thing she could imagine as a possible reason for Bling's distracted behavior. "Is it Logan again?"

Logan Cale…the guy that could be easily described as Bling's most complicated patient. But he was more than that. He was a trusted friend and thus the care and concern Bling felt for him couldn't just be discarded like a coat in the closet after coming home and closing the door in the evening. Valued friend and complicated patient, those were two apt descriptions for Logan… and yet, there was still another incident that always came to Maria's mind whenever she heard his name. Logan was the man who had ended up in a wheelchair after risking his life for a women and her little daughter on a mission of Eyes Only, Seattle's own superhero whom Maria was only too happy to help whenever the knowledge and talents of a nurse were needed.

A musing expression on her face, Maria's thoughts drifted back to the day when she had experienced the spectacular shooting of one of the Seattle's Cales first hand…

…_it was the end of a long, straining shift at Metro Medical's emergency room, when the arrival of two shooting victims was announced. This in itself wasn't unusual and the team prepared with seasoned moves for what had become an almost daily occurrence. The number of shootings had increased dramatically after the Pulse as for a while firearms seemed to be the only means that promised safety in a world turned upside down. Even now, ten years later, after the initial anarchy had yielded to the relative quiet of a military state, ongoing gang-wars and ruthless sector cops provided a never-ending parade of wailing emergency rides to Seattle's hospitals. While she checked supplies and blood reserves, Maria wondered who had gotten into the line of fire this time… A kid playing gangster, a young mother, an old man who hadn't been able to duck away fast enough when all hell had broken loose…?_

_All her gloomy ruminations were abruptly forgotten the moment they brought in the first victim, the one who had died on the ride. It was Peter, Bling's old friend Peter who like him was involved with Eyes Only. The shock of seeing the familiar form in a pose of irreversible lifelessness compromised Maria's even breathing into a short, ragged gasp, dangerously close to sobbing. Slowly it dawned on her that Peter hadn't been hit by a stray bullet in a random shooting – this must have been some Eyes only business gone astray. As she busily occupied her hands to keep her emotions down and to maintain a professional air, a disturbing thought sneaked up on her. What if Bling had been in this mission too? He'd been unusually tense in the last days but wouldn't tell her anything but that there was something big going on in the 'cause'. What if the other victim was Bling… wounded… dead? When the other man was brought in seconds later, Maria was half expecting to see Bling, unconscious and with blood-soaked clothes. However, already the first glance at the handsome man stretched out on the gurney proved her fears wrong as the tall but lean form and blonde spiky hair clearly didn't look anything like Bling. A wave of relief washed over her, only to be replaced a second later by shame and self-incrimination. She knew this guy, had seen him before when providing precious inside information on the cortodiazapine-case. He was one of the many in the army of helping hands Eyes Only had gathered around him. He had committed himself to a dangerous cause – and now he was lying here, motionless, his pale face scratched, body torn with what seemed to be a life-threatening gunshot wound to the back. Why hadn't he worn better protection? _

_Just for a splinter of a moment Maria stood back, shaken, as the team around her worked frantically to repair what they could on the damaged body. Frankly, at this point Maria didn't hold much hope for Logan surviving the next hours. Sure, they had done everything in their power to keep him alive – but with the depression affecting even the better-equipped hospitals 'everything' frustratingly often was a far cry from the best possible treatment. _

_But Logan survived, went through the painful months of recovery with the help of the never-relenting patience of Bling, who in Maria's not exactly unbiased opinion was the best in his field. However, it was a difficult recovery, less so on the physical side where Logan's young age and otherwise good health helped along, but with the more subtle matter of emotional healing, struggling with the all-but-easy task of finding a level of acceptance of his new life as a paraplegic that was necessary to move on without being eaten up by bitterness and depression. _

Disentangling herself from the past with a slow shake of her head, Maria shifted her attention to the man beside her whose only answer to her question consisted of a wry, lopsided grin that didn't really ease her worries.

After a moment though Bling initially superficial smirk widened into a smile of genuine affection at the realization of how easily she could read him. This time however Maria was wrong. "Nope, for once it isn't Logan… It's Max", he added quietly after a second at her questioningly raised eyebrows.

He hadn't wanted to upset Max. Hell, knowing what the girl meant to Logan it was the very last thing he would do. The offending question had just been going around in his head for a while – in fact ever since learning about Max's unusual background – and Max surprise visit had seemed to be the perfect opportunity to finally pose it. Amused he'd observed how, after a distracted greeting, Max had fixed her gaze on Logan in an intensity that revealed all attempts at 'We're not like that' as being nothing but mere façade. Logan however had almost squirmed under such close scrutiny, unable to see it as the plain admiration it was. Bling had rolled his eyes at this impossible couple, feeling perfectly safe to do so as both seemed to have completely forgotten his presence in the moment they'd plunged into their own private Max-and-Logan-universe. What the both of them needed, Bling had thought with an inward groan, was a sound smacking-together of their stubborn heads.

However, Logan didn't pay him to play matchmaker… and even if he did, any kind of romance was unlikely to happen while Logan still was caught in this unnecessary embarrassment which caused his hesitation to transfer back into the chair while Max was watching. So, to give his friend the opportunity to do his move in safety, Bling had tried to distract Max's attention with the truly interesting question of how she was able to keep up her fighting skills. Just like Logan, he was worried about her safety, was afraid that Manticore might catch up with their long-searched-for escapee.

Max's reaction though, her cornered deer-caught-in-headlights-expression, should have been enough to make him stop right there. Yet, instead of listening to his instinct, he had carried on despite her obvious discomfort, not taking her reluctance too seriously as he was used to dealing with such hesitant behavior from his work as a physical therapist.

But Max wasn't one of his patients. Bling was aware of this and he hadn't meant to mother her with his suggestion. She was a friend and it was that simple fact which gave his lingering desire to help its unrelenting insistence.

Of course, taking on a Manticore soldier was something a mere ordinary only could dream of and – even though he wasn't in the worst shape himself – Bling knew that he couldn't compete with Max's superhuman speed and strength. But nevertheless, there was one area in which Bling thought to be ahead of Max: experience and knowledge of techniques. He had gone through years of training, both of the military kind as well as studying with some of the more famous names in the field of martial arts. Max on the other hand had quit her education at the age of nine and even though she probably had been forced to start training at an unreasonably young age she hadn't experienced a lot of schooling. Seeing things from this angle, it wasn't all that unlikely that he could show Max a move or two…

Then however things had gone sideways. In true Manticore-speed and faster than Bling could react in his baffled state, Max had been out of the door, leaving him with an equally baffled Logan who was short of giving his trainer an annoyed 'What have you done?'-glare.

Bling still didn't know what _exactly_ he had done wrong, except for breaking the unspoken rule of not touching _any_ Manticore-related subjects. Somehow the subject of martial arts must have touched Max's inner demons, which wasn't really surprising, as Bling had to concede in hindsight, considering she grew up in an institution where kids where trained to be deathly weapons.

Remembering Maria still was waiting for an explanation, he shifted his gaze from the slowly dying flames onto Maria's expectant face, smiling at her calm patience. It was one of the qualities he valued about her, that she never pressed him to talk when he wasn't ready. "I asked a stupid question."

That earned him a skeptic look. Maria just couldn't imagine Bling doing something as inconsiderate as 'asking a stupid question' or just being curious…yet with Max, Maria had observed, the level of sensitivity might be a bit lower than normal. The few times she had meet Max so far she had dodged all personal questions with polite glibness and a quick change of the topic, a behavior that with its a well-practiced evasiveness confirmed Maria's first impression of the dark-haired bike-messenger showing up at Metro Medical some weeks ago.

_Not her stunningly good looks but the air of guardedness and constant vigilance was the very first thing Maria noticed about the young woman who came in behalf of Eyes Only to drop off a desperately needed bottle of high-tech antibiotics which was otherwise hard to get and even harder to pay – but seemingly for the local superhero the ever-inhibiting hurdles of availability and exorbitant prizes were easily overcome._

_Later that day she learned from Bling that this had been Max – the young woman with whom Logan pretended to have a plainly platonic relationship – for reasons unknown to Maria since her obvious beauty was complemented by intelligence and character as Maria knew from various remarks of Bling. Pleased by finally getting to know the woman in Logan's life, Maria posed some casual questions about Max's background, her curiosity fuelled by the girl's demeanor. Voice quiet and for some reason hesitant with the topic, Bling told her that he didn't know more than, apparently, Max had lost her parents in the riots following the Pulse and afterwards had spent her youth in diverse orphanages and foster-families. _

_To Maria this explained it all, Max's cautious lone warrior attitude, the tough façade covering up for the pain of an early loss and seeing things beyond her years. Growing up in an orphan-home probably hadn't been a pleasure even before the Pulse, in the chaos after though, when even such basic things like nutrition supply had been unsteady and nobody cared in the least about the neglect of some abandoned kids, it must have been hell. Considering what Max must have gone through, who could blame her for not wanting to talk about her past? _

While Maria was lost in thoughts about the craziness of the post-pulse world, Bling's attention once more wandered back to the afternoon. _Damn_. He needed to make amends, make sure his stupid lapse of judgment wouldn't result in Max avoiding Logan. After all, it was her who was usually responsible for his boss's inexplicable good moods, her who made him flash around those happy smiles speaking of a hope for a 'more' that was beyond the things Bling could provide with all the amiable comfort of their friendship.

His brooding though was once more interrupted by Maria who had come to the decision that, whatever Bling had said or done, he had given himself enough grief about it for today – what he needed now were some tender, caring female hands. Taking pleasure from the awareness that she was the only one who could pull through a 'no nonsense'-attitude with the master of 'no nonsense' himself, she resolutely took the completely melted ice-cream from his hands to remind him, with a nudge to his shoulder: "Bling, you know it yourself, those two surely are the most touchy people in the universe. You on the other hand are the most considerate, most patient guy I've ever known. If anything went wrong today it's because handling them is just like juggling eggs, not because _you_ suddenly turned into a thoughtless idiot."

Then, in a more, intimate, sultry voice that was accompanied with a suggestive cock of her eyebrows she added "Now, get down on the floor. There's absolutely nothing one of my famous massages won't cure."

A wicked grin found his way on Bling's face as he forced himself to momentarily forget the intricate realms of Logan and his 'We're not like that'-friend, forget everything that wasn't Maria.

A moment later, after he'd taken off his shirt with a content sigh, he gingerly stretched out on the bear-rug that covered the floor in front of the fireplace, waiting for Maria's hands to work her magic.

_...To be continued..._

Now I have a tiny problem: Originally this was intended to be a one-shot and I added chapters without any idea of a bigger plot – plus found that I lack imagination / talent / knowledge to write such a sophisticated fighting-scene as it could happen between Max and Bling. So, embarrassing to say, I totally have no idea how to end this story in a reasonable way – but am open for all suggestions...


End file.
